The Challenge
by Broadwaylover5300
Summary: A 10-song tribute to Hairspray! In response to Insane's iPod challenge.
1. Maggie May

**Hi! First of all, I'd like to thank Insane for starting all this in the Hairspray fandom!**

**Second, this is the second version of this I've written. The first one will never see the light of day; I just flat-out didn't like it (except for one, which will appear here)! These, except for the one mentioned above, are all different songs than the ones in my first batch!**

**Finally, all italicized words are lyrics or titles. All normal words are the drabbles or ficlets or whatever you wanna call them!**

_Maggie May- Rod Stewart_

_Wake up, Maggie, I think I got something to say to you  
It's late September and I really should be back at school  
I know I keep you amused but I feel I'm being used  
Oh Maggie I couldn't have tried any more  
You lured me away from home just to save you from being alone  
You stole my heart and that's what really hurt_

_The morning sun when it's in your face really shows your age  
But that don't worry me none in my eyes you're everything  
I laughed at all of your jokes my love you didn't need to coax  
Oh, Maggie I couldn't have tried any more  
You lured me away from home, just to save you from being alone  
You stole my soul and that's a pain I can do without_

_All I needed was a friend to lend a guiding hand  
But you turned into a lover and  
mother what a lover, you wore me out  
All you did was wreck my bed  
and in the morning kick me in the head  
Oh Maggie I couldn't have tried anymore  
You lured me away from home 'cause you didn't want to be alone  
You stole my heart I couldn't leave you if I tried_

_I suppose I could collect my books and get on back to school  
Or steal my daddy's cue and make a living out of playing pool  
Or find myself a rock and roll band that needs a helpin' hand  
Oh Maggie I wish I'd never seen your face  
You made a first-class fool out of me  
But I'm as blind as a fool can be  
You stole my heart but I love you anyway_

_Maggie I wish I'd never seen your face  
I'll get on back home one of these days_

"I loathe you," IQ hissed through clenched teeth at the form sitting across the dark room from him. The silhouette just sat there in the chair, piercing his body in a strange way, silently teasing IQ almost to the brink of insanity.

"No, you don't," a silky voice came back from the chair standing across the room. "I know you don't, and you know you don't, so let's just stop playing like children, shall we?"

IQ stared back at the dark corner, still filled with loathing, not because he knew she was wrong, but because she was right. He knew that, even though she had merely used him as one might use a Kleenex, played him like a toy for a few days only to leave him in a trash bin, that he still felt some passion for her, and that he sort of loved her for doing so, in a weird way.

He knew where he should be. He stared at the pile of books that sat in a silent form on the nightstand, next to IQ's portable fan. He should be back at college, the expensive Ivy League-level university that his father had paid big money to get into. He knew that, had he not decided to stay in Baltimore a few days longer, that he wouldn't be in this situation. However, he was, and now there was no way out of it.

IQ had decided to stop in a bar for a few drinks before he hit the sack. He had been sitting there alone, letting his thoughts keep him company as he downed drink after drink. It was then that he had felt a hand come down on his shoulder. He had turned around and found himself staring into that face that he remembered from the Corny Collins days, that face that every boy had hated and yet lusted for, that face that belonged to that girl that had been jokingly called the Everest of the councilettes for more reasons than one. However, there had been a warmth in her eyes that hadn't been there before, a softness to her face that IQ had never remembered her having in all the other years since he had known her. IQ had, for some reason, let all his problems spill out, and she had offered to let him come back to her apartment where they could talk things over in private. IQ had complied, only to find when they reached her apartment that talking was the last thing she had had on her mind.

"I hope you're satisfied," IQ hissed again.

"Yes, I am," the voice came back from the corner.

"Have you ever stopped to think what this could mean to me?" IQ shot at the corner. "Now what am I supposed to do? What do I do now? Where should I go?"

"That's a good question," the silhouette replied as it rose from the chair. "Where are you going to go?"

IQ sat back on the bed and thought as the silhouette grew closer to the bed. Where could he go? He really had a few options. He could go back to school. However, no sooner did that thought enter IQ's mind than he discarded it. He knew that, in the situation that he now had put himself in, that he couldn't go back to school. In fact, he knew in some way that his schooling was truly over, that he had finally learned all that there was to learn. Besides, even if he did go back, he wouldn't be able to work nearly as well as he had been before, not with what he had just experienced the night before. No, college was not an option.

What about writing? IQ had always been praised for his vivid imagination and his ability to tell stories. Perhaps he could take his old banged-up portable typewriter, escape away from it all and just tell stories all his life. However, IQ quickly discarded that idea too. He knew, that with the remarkable passion and sensation that he had felt, that telling stories and the rush that came with that just wouldn't be enough for him anymore. No, that would not work.

As IQ continued to go over options in his mind, the silhouette helped him out of the bed and pulled him to his feet, jerking him into the soft glow that the lamp on the nightstand cast. She pulled him into a deep, passionate, fiery kiss, one that permeated every fiber of his being and made him feel hot and passionate. After holding him in this kiss for a time, she unlocked her lips from his and stared at him.

"Shelley Anne Ambrose," he said, "I wish I'd never seen your face."

"I know you do," she replied as she kissed him again. Once she unlocked her lips from his again, he continued.

"I'll get back home someday," he said, enveloping her in his arms and lips.

**Well, what did you think? Bad? Good? Let me know!**


	2. Riders on the Storm

**Hi! Well, despite the disappointing lack of reviews for the last chapter (sometimes I feel like a musician playing to a non-existent audience), I've decided to mush on and finish this!**

**I failed to mention in the last chapter that I don't own any of these songs or Hairspray or any of its characters, so I'm doing it now!**

**This story is a combination of my love for the Doors, urban legends and Hairspray, and since this story is based on an urban legend, some may recognize it, but I've put a Corny/Amber spin on it!**

_Riders on the Storm-The Doors_

_Riders on the storm  
Riders on the storm  
Into this house we're born  
Into this world we're thrown  
Like a dog without a bone  
An actor out on loan  
Riders on the storm._

_There's a killer on the road  
His brain is squirming like a toad  
Take a long holiday  
Let your children play  
If you give this man a ride  
Sweet Emily will die  
Killer on the road, yeah._

_Girl you gotta love your man  
Girl you gotta love your man  
Take him by the hand  
Make him understand  
The world on you depends  
Our life will never end  
Gotta love your man, yeah._

_Riders on the storm  
Riders on the storm  
Into this house we're born  
Into this world we're thrown  
Like a dog without a bone  
An actor out on loan  
Riders on the storm._

It was a dark, rainy Baltimore night. Rain came down in sheets and torrents, pounding against the windows of the WYZT windows, sounding like gunfire crackling from the tommy guns that Amber had seen so many times in gangster movies. Lightning flashed across the sky occasionally, only offering brief glimpses of the parking lot and the surrounding area before it plunged into darkness once again.

It was on nights like this that Amber was extremely glad that she didn't have to walk home. A few months before, Velma had bought her an all new '65 Mustang. It wasn't a convertible, but Amber didn't really care. Mustangs had been her favorite car for the longest time, and she had always wanted one to replace the old '57 Chevy that she had been driving around since she had gotten her license. Amber loved her car on any day, but it was especially on cold, rainy days like this that Amber was grateful to have it.

Amber had not expected to be staying into the night tonight, but it wasn't like any of the council had been expecting to. Velma, in typical will-of-the-wisp fashion, had piled on fifteen new dances that she expected all the council members to be able to dance perfectly by the next day, and, to fulfill Velma's expectations, a late-night practice session had been tacked on to today's schedule, effectively ending Amber's day at ten o'clock P.M.

Amber walked through the sheets of rain to her car, entered and slammed the door behind her. She turned on the car and the headlights and just sat there for a second, thinking about what to do. She didn't really want to go home, but then she never did. However, tonight, Velma would surely be asleep by now, for she had not been at the practice session. If Amber really wanted to, she could just drive all night, get home in the early morning and nobody would be the wiser. Amber decided to do so.

Amber left the WYZT parking lot and started through the streets of Baltimore. She was aware of her surroundings as they slid past her window, the streetlamps, the locked-up stores, the lights burning dimly in some apartment buildings as men watched Johnny Carson, the news, the fights, or whatever else was on at this hour of the evening.

However, it wasn't in the city that Amber really wanted to drive. She wanted to get out of the city, go past the huge oil refinery that stood on the edge of town, wanted to go and explore that web of roads and neighborhoods, that world of all-night diners and service stations and woods that made up the area past the city limits.

Amber continued to drive, through the heart of downtown, past the glistening diamond of the refinery and into the pit of blackness that lay beyond.

It was while Amber was exploring this darkness-filled area when Amber became aware of the car behind her on the road. It looked like some kind of pickup truck, although in the rain and wind, Amber really couldn't tell much about it. It was a vaguely menacing hump in the background, following her every move with the two headlights that shot their beams into the night.

Suddenly, the driver of the truck switched on his high beams, flooding Amber's car with light. Amber tried to see out of her rearview mirror, only to be nearly blinded by the light that flooded in from her rear window. She quickly fixed her eyes back on the road and continued to drive.

This system continued to go on for several miles. The driver would usually stay a safe distance behind her, just following her normally with his headlights at normal brightness. However, at very odd intervals, the driver would suddenly turn on his high beams and start to race toward Amber's car. Amber would then put on some speed, trying to get this driver off her tail and get some space between the two, and it was usually then that the driver would return his lights to normal brightness and go back to his usual position.

Amber was getting very frightened by this driver, but she knew that if she lost her head, she would never get out of this night alive. She immediately decided on a course of action. Amber knew that just a mile ahead was a service station, one of those ones that had an attendant at it at all hours of the day or night. She decided that she would stop there and, taking the small pistol that Velma had advised her to keep in her glove compartment at all times in case of emergency, would confront the other driver if he pulled into the service station behind her. If he didn't follow her, she would still wait at the station for a few minutes, waiting for the driver to get far ahead of her, before she swung back around and headed back into Baltimore.

Amber sighed with relief as she saw the lights of the service station appear in the distance. She pulled into the station, only for the other driver to pull in behind her. Calmly, Amber reached over to her glove compartment, opened it, grabbed the gun and got out of her car. She turned, ready to face the driver, only for her to gasp at the face she saw in front of hers.

"Corny?!" she yelled. "What have you been doing? Don't you know you've been scaring me half to death? Why have you been following me?"

Corny pointed over Amber's shoulder. "Him," was his reply.

Amber turned around to see the passenger-side door to the backseat open and a man standing in the open doorway. He was a tall man with jet-black hair and hawk-like features. His eyes had some kind of weird fire burning in them that sent chills down Amber's spine. He held a .44 Magnum in his hand.

"You see, Amber, when I was heading out to my truck, I thought I saw a man getting into your back seat when the lightning flashed. I thought that maybe my dyes were playing tricks on me, but I decided to follow you home just in case. However, I soon found out that my eyes weren't playing tricks on me when I started to see this man rising up from the back seat and aiming his gun toward your head. Whenever I saw this guy sitting up, that was when I would switch on my high beams. As soon as I did so, he would duck down, and that was when I would switch them off," Corny explained.

The man who had been sitting in the back seat sneered at Corny. "You got a big mouth, man," he growled. "Let me shut it up for you." With that, he fired a shot at Corny, but he fired wildly. However, the shot ripped through Corny's shoulder and he fell to the ground. Amber, acting quickly, fired two slugs from her pistol right above the man's heart. The man fell to the ground.

Amber knelt down next to Corny and looked at his bleeding shoulder where he had been wounded. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the concrete underneath Corny red.

The attendant ran out from the building and ran next to Corny. "I called the paramedics. They should be here in about five minutes with the police," he said.

Amber, barely hearing the attendant's words, smiled down at Corny, who had opened his eyes. "What would I do without you?" she asked.

Corny grinned that same old grin that Amber was so used to seeing and commented, "I don't know. What would you do?"


	3. MacArthur Park

**Hi! Sorry I didn't post last night; life got in the way!**

**First of all, I don't own the song below or Hairspray or any of its characters!**

**Second, one of the beauties of this song is that it's so symbolic and that it's so open to interpretation (in other words, as if you needed it in other words, it's not about a cake melting in the rain). This one-shot is about my interpretation of the song; if you have a different one, I'd be glad to hear it!**

_MacArthur Park-Richard Harris_

_Spring was never waiting for us, girl  
It ran one step ahead  
As we followed in the dance  
Between the parted pages and were pressed  
In love's hot, fevered iron  
Like a striped pair of pants_

_MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark  
All the sweet, green icing flowing down  
Someone left the cake out in the rain  
I don't think that I can take it  
'Cause it took so long to bake it  
And I'll never have that recipe again  
Oh, no!_

_I recall the yellow cotton dress  
Foaming like a wave  
On the ground around your knees  
The birds, like tender babies in your hands  
And the old men playing checkers by the trees_

_MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark  
All the sweet, green icing flowing down  
Someone left the cake out in the rain  
I don't think that I can take it  
'Cause it took so long to bake it  
And I'll never have that recipe again  
Oh, no!_

_There will be another song for me  
For I will sing it  
There will be another dream for me  
Someone will bring it  
I will drink the wine while it is warm  
And never let you catch me looking at the sun  
And after all the loves of my life  
After all the loves of my life  
You'll still be the one_

_I will take my life into my hands and I will use it  
I will win the worship in their eyes and I will lose it  
I will have the things that I desire  
And my passion flow like rivers through the sky  
And after all the loves of my life  
After all the loves of my life  
I'll be thinking of you  
And wondering why_

_MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark  
All the sweet, green icing flowing down  
Someone left the cake out in the rain  
I don't think that I can take it  
'Cause it took so long to bake it  
And I'll never have that recipe again  
Oh, no!  
Oh, no  
No, no  
Oh no_

Brad's life had been going great. He was finally starting to get really noticed as a really talented dancer by the local TV critics, finally being seen as something more than a second banana to people like Link, Amber and Tracy, or even Tammy or Shelley. As his prestige rose, Mr. Spritzer raised his paycheck accordingly, and Brad had been pulling in a pretty hefty sum each week.

However, if one was to ask Brad what his greatest achievement had been over this period, he would have told you that it was his conquest of Noreen's heart. She had previously been seen as something unattainable to Brad, something like a precious statue in a museum, something that was okay to look at, but if one touched it, one would be carted off faster than one could apologize for it. However, Brad had continued to do kind things for Noreen, doing a little bit here, a little bit there, until, slowly but surely, Noreen's heart had become his. It was a very strong relationship, one that Brad felt he had crafted as a craftsman might design a table or a baker might decorate a cake.

Then the letter arrived.

When Brad looked up in the upper left-hand corner of the envelope and read "Selective Service System", his heart dropped. He had heard about the war in Vietnam, of course. There was nobody in the country that had not. However, it had always seemed like a faraway thing to him, something not quite real, something that was sort of vague and fuzzy in his mind's eye, something that could never affect him. However, that letter, and especially those three words in the upper left-hand corner of the envelope, suddenly brought Vietnam uncomfortably close to him.

Brad was told in the letter to report to Parris Island in North Carolina on August 28 to begin basic training. The night before, he and Noreen decided to share one last night of passion.

They decided on Patterson Park, the lovely, tree-laden park that stood not too far from their school, as the location for this final night. They had spent many warm summer nights there before, walking down the cobblestone pathways, listening to the weekend band concerts, sitting on the large hill that sat in the middle of the park and watching beautiful orange-and-red streaked sunsets trimmed in purple haze. However, tonight, they went for the large weeping willow tree, their most special place in the park of all. It was there, under the canopy of the hanging branches, that they had shared their most private and special moments, and it was in that private green chamber provided by the branches that Brad and Noreen really got it on for the first time in their year-long relationship. It was something that Brad had always been nervous about doing, always worried that if he really told her that he wanted to do it with her, he would look like a jerk who only had one thing on his mind. However, there was no time for beating around the bush here. Brad knew all too well that there was a very good chance that he would never be coming back, and that this might have been his last chance to experience it.

As it turned out, Brad did end up coming home after serving one tour of duty. He had hated his experience in 'Nam, hated every single day of it. He hated the swamps. He hated the rice paddies, the napalm, the Agent Orange, the booby traps, the snipers, his commanding officers, just everything. He was desperate to forget it and just move on with his life, but his mind wasn't ready to. Occasionally, something would spark a trip back to that place he hated so much, back to sloshing through the endless swamp looking for the Cong before they were all picked off by some sniper. To make matters even worse, these memories were beginning to mix with other memories, memories that would have ordinarily been extremely pleasant. The doctor had told him that he had post-traumatic stress disorder, but all Brad really knew was that he hated it.

It wasn't made any easier by the fact that Noreen had moved on since he had gone. When Brad had returned home, he had immediately made his way to Noreen's house, ready to pick up where they had left off. He was extremely surprised when a man opened the door and identified himself as Noreen's boyfriend. When Brad had asked Noreen about it, she had just broken down and cried.

So it was done. That relationship, that masterpiece that he had worked so hard and for so long to construct and perfect, was now crumbled before his eyes, reduced to a small pile of rubble, and that it would never be again. All those memories, all those nights, all those passionate private moments that they had spent together, all of them were melting from his mind quietly, despite Brad's best efforts to keep them there.

Brad knew that he would have other loves, sure. He knew that he would be happy again and that there would be other great people who would lift him up and make him feel wonderful. However, he also somehow knew, that when he faced his final curtain, that he would be left alone with his memories and to wonder where it had all gone wrong.

Brad knew that it would never be the same again, that time had just moved on, and that he had been too slow to catch up.


	4. My Cherie Amour

**Hi! **

**Well, I really have nothing much to say tonight except I don't own the song below or Hairspray or any of its characters!**

**Oh, and this one-shot will be kind of shorter than my others so far, but that's okay, right?**

_My Cherie Amour-Stevie Wonder_

_  
My cherie amour, lovely as a summer day  
My cherie amour, distant as the Milky Way  
My cherie amour, pretty little one that I adore  
You're the only girl my heart beats for  
How I wish that you were mine_

_In a cafe or sometimes on a crowded street  
I've been near you, but you never noticed me  
My cherie amour, won't you tell me how could you ignore  
That behind that little smile I wore  
How I wish that you were mine_

_Maybe someday, you'll see my face among the crowd  
Maybe someday, I'll share your little distant cloud  
Oh, cherie amour, pretty little one that I adore  
You're the only girl my heart beats for  
How I wish that you were mine_

Amber sighed as she stood in Link's arms. She smiled and batted her eyelashes for the camera, just as her mother had been training her to do since she was about four or five. As she continued to play for the camera, a fear began to build up inside her, a fear that perhaps this façade of contentment and happiness that she was putting up for the crowd was not pretty or convincing enough to mask the suffering and torment that brewed underneath.

Although Amber would certainly never tell this to anyone, it was Shelley's arms she yearned to be inside of. She yearned to fell her arms against her body, to feel Shelley's beautifully manicured fingernails running down Amber's silky flesh, to stare into Shelley's hypnotic eyes, to run her fingers through Shelley's shining red hair and to taste that almost flagrantly red lipstick that she wore for every show.

And yet, at the same time, she knew that Shelley would never go for her. After all, she was Shelley Ambrose, the quickly rising star of the councilettes, the main competitor for Amber's spot at the top of the heap of the other councilettes, the hen at the top of the pecking order that the council made up. Amber knew that Shelley wanted that top spot more than anything else in the world, and that she was ready and willing to do anything to get it. Amber knew full well that the lead councilette of the Corny Collins show wasn't "supposed" to have the thoughts that she had toward Shelley, and she knew just as well that Shelley knew it too.

Besides, it wouldn't make any difference if that wasn't the way it was. It was completely obvious to everybody, and especially to Amber, that Shelley didn't even tolerate Amber, much less show any romantic inclinations toward her. In fact, Shelley didn't even show any romantic inclinations to any of the boys on the show. Shelley was the equivalent to Kilimanjaro among the councilettes, the almost impossible to conquer, the imposing tower of strength, the rock-solid mountain that was even impossible to climb, and that situation was only made about twenty times worse for Amber.

However, Amber still clung to hope, a hope that one day Shelley would notice her as something besides someone who needed to be torn down, an enemy who had to be destroyed, a target for Shelley to fire her weapons upon. She hoped that someday, when the time was right, Shelley would be able to see beyond all the glitz, gloss, glamour and everything else that Amber threw out and would see the true Amber, a shy girl afraid of her own feelings. She also hoped that Shelley would someday find in herself the same feelings for Amber and that they could start a new life together.

To Amber, sometimes it seemed like it would never happen, but Amber could still dream, and she knew that that was one thing that nobody could take away from her.

**You know, I might expand this into a three-shot! I can see a lot of potential in this!**

**For now, however, I hope you enjoyed this! I know it's pretty short, but hopefully it's still good!**


	5. The Joker

**Hi! Well, I've got a gift (or a gag, depending on how much you like this) for you, two chapters tonight!**

**I don't own this song nor Hairspray or any of its characters!  
**

_The Joker-The Steve Miller Band_

_Some people call me the space cowboy, yeah  
Some call me the gangster of love  
Some people call me Maurice  
Cause I speak of the pompitous of love_

_People talk about me, baby  
Say I'm doin' you wrong, doin' you wrong  
Well, don't you worry baby  
Don't worry  
Cause I'm right here, right here, right here, right here at home_

_Cause I'm a picker  
I'm a grinner  
I'm a lover  
And I'm a sinner  
I play my music in the sun_

_I'm a joker  
I'm a smoker  
I'm a midnight toker  
I sure don't want to hurt no one_

_I'm a picker  
I'm a grinner  
I'm a lover  
And I'm a sinner  
I play my music in the sun_

_I'm a joker  
I'm a smoker  
I'm a midnight toker  
I get my lovin' on the run  
Wooo Wooooo_

_You're the cutest thing  
That I ever did see  
I really love your peaches  
Want to shake your tree  
Lovey-dovey, lovey-dovey, lovey-dovey all the time  
Ooo-eee baby, I'll sure show you a good time_

_Cause I'm a picker  
I'm a grinner  
I'm a lover  
And I'm a sinner  
I play my music in the sun_

_I'm a joker  
I'm a smoker  
I'm a midnight toker  
I get my lovin' on the run_

_I'm a picker  
I'm a grinner  
I'm a lover  
And I'm a sinner  
I play my music in the sun_

_I'm a joker  
I'm a smoker  
I'm a midnight toker  
I sure don't want to hurt no one_

_People keep talking about me baby  
They say I'm doin' you wrong  
Well don't you worry, don't worry, no don't worry mama  
Cause I'm right here at home_

_You're the cutest thing I ever did see  
Really love your peaches want to shake your tree  
Lovey-dovey, lovey-dovey, lovey-dovey all the time  
Come on baby and I'll show you a good time_

Amber was far from being a saint, and if you were to ask her, she'd be the first to tell you that she wasn't.

Sure, people treated her like one. Those at Patterson Park High who weren't part of the council looked at her like an idol, like something made of gold that would strike them down and kill them if they tried to get too close or too involved with her. They were the ones who really looked at her like she was actually something really important, even when Amber knew that she wasn't.

Of course, Amber would never tell anybody this, for her mother would probably murder her if she did so. Of all the people Amber knew, Velma was the one who had the most idol-worship style attitude when it came to Amber, almost worshipping her as much as she worshipped herself.

However, Amber knew what she really was. She was just like anybody else. She laughed, she cried, she got mad, she did terrible things, she had great days, she had bad days. She knew that she was just like anybody else, just a lone person trying to get through life as smoothly as possible.

There was only person who she could show this side to, however, and that was Shelley. Shelley was the only one who knew the true Amber, the fallible, scared, confused young girl just trying to get on with her life. It was true that Shelley couldn't do much of anything about how everybody else felt about Amber, but it made Amber feel good that there was somebody else who knew the true her.

It was just one of the many things that Amber loved about Shelley.


	6. Dancing in the Moonlight

**Well, here's the second chapter of the night!**

**Once again, I don't own this song, nor do I own Hairspray or any of its characters!**

_Dancing in the Moonlight-King Harvest_

_We get it on most every night  
When that moon gets big and bright  
It's a supernatural delight  
Everybody was dancing in the moonlight_

_Everybody here is out of sight  
They don't bark and they don't bite  
They keep things loose they keep things light  
Everybody was dancing in the moonlight_

_Dancing in the moonlight  
Everybody feeling warm and bright  
It's such a fine and natural sight  
Everybody dancing in the moonlight_

_We like our fun and we never fight  
You can't dance and stay uptight  
It's a supernatural delight  
Everybody was dancing in the moonlight_

_Dancing in the moonlight  
Everybody feeling warm and bright  
It's such a fine and natural sight  
Everybody dancing in the moonlight_

_Everybody here is out of sight  
They don't bark and they don't bite  
They keep things loose they keep things light  
Everybody was dancing in the moonlight_

_Dancing in the moonlight  
Everybody feeling warm and bright  
It's such a fine and natural sight  
Everybody dancing in the moonlight…_

_(repeat chorus three times)_

It was a ritual. Nobody ever came out and said it, but everybody knew that that was what it was.

Every Saturday night, and especially on summer nights, the council members would drive out to the meadow past the canal and out where all was quiet. Everybody would bring their small transistor radios, and when they got there, they would turn them up to full blast, tune them to the same station, and they would dance the night away, with nothing but the pale moonlight to show them where they were.

It was something that all the council members enjoyed. The smell of the grass and flowers in the air, the notes of the music swirling and filling the air, the cool breezes that would occasionally rustle through the grass, the pale white light giving everybody a sort of pale glow. Everything and everybody, in their own way, would contribute something to the beauty of the evenings and just make the evenings even more special with their mere presence.

It was a weird sort of feeling. Everybody loved the evenings that they spent out in the meadow, but, if one were to ask any of them why they loved those evenings so much, none of the council members would be able to put into words why those evenings were so magically beautiful. It was just a supernatural delight, dancing out there, and it just seemed to whisk everything away, all their troubles, and it seemed like they were the only ones on earth and that nothing else mattered but the music and their partner.

They were beautiful nights.


	7. Luck be a Lady

**Hi, guys! Sorry I've been neglecting this challenge, I am going to finish it!**

**I just want to say that I don't own any of the songs in this story, nor do I own Hairspray and any of its characters!**

**Oh, and if you would, when you get to the part when Joey sings, look up the song Joey sings and listen, I think it would enhance the enjoyment of this one-shot!**

_Luck Be a Lady-Frank Sinatra_

_They call you lady luck,  
But there is room for doubt,  
At times you've had a very un-ladylike way of running out,  
You're on this date with me,  
The pickings have been lush,  
And yet before this evening is over you might give me the brush,  
You might forget your manners,  
You might refuse to stay,  
And so the best that I can do is pray_

_  
Luck be a lady tonight,  
Luck be a lady tonight,  
Luck if you've ever been a lady to begin with,  
Luck be a lady tonight_

_  
Luck let a gentlemen see,  
How nice a dame you can be,  
I know the way you've treated other guys you've been with,  
Luck be a lady with me_

_  
A lady doesn't leave her escort,  
It isn't fair, It isn't nice,  
A lady doesn't wander all over the room and blow on some other guy's dice,  
Let's keep this party polite,  
Never get out of my sight,  
Stick me with me baby ,I'm the fellow you came in with,  
Luck be a lady tonight_

_  
Luck let a gentleman see,  
Just how nice, how nice a dame you can be,  
I know the way you've treated other guys you've been with,  
Luck be a lady with me_

_  
A lady doesn't leave her escort,  
It isn't fair and it's not nice,  
A lady doesn't wander all over the room,  
And blow on some other guys dice_

_  
So let's keep the party polite,  
Never get out of my sight,  
Sick with me baby, I'm the guy you came in with,  
Luck be a lady,  
Luck be a lady,  
Luck be a lady, tonight._

Joey walked into the ballroom of the country club, packed to the brim with the rest of the council members. He sighed, grinned, straightened his tie, smoothed his suit, ran his comb through his hair and entered the room. He felt great, like the world was like a yo-yo and he had just been handed the string, like the way a guy would feel after getting twenty-one ten times in a row when playing blackjack, the way a guy felt when he got his first kiss. This was his night, and he knew it.

He cast his eyes over at Tammy, who was hanging out over by the punch bowl. He smiled as he watched he smile and laugh with a small gaggle of the other councilettes. He knew what was going on. The girls, knowing that Tammy was fun to be around, had gathered around her, hoping to soak up some of that brightness that Tammy always had radiating from her. Tammy always had a kind word for everybody, and it was just one of the many things that Joey loved about her.

Tonight was going to be the night. It was going to be the night he would be noticed. This was the night that Tammy would look at him as something more than just another council member, another face in the crowd, just another person that she just happened to know.

It wasn't that Joey hadn't wanted to tell her how he felt before, because he most certainly had. However, he hadn't been able to find the right words to tell her how he felt, just the right combination of letters to let Tammy know that he longed for her each day, dreamed about her beautiful eyes and flashing smile, how her voice sounded like music to him, how every move she made was like, for him, watching Ginger Rogers in the arms of Fred Astaire.

Now, however, he knew that he had found the perfect way to tell her, and he would do it in the only place he felt entirely comfortable, the stage.

He would do it in a song.

Joey walked up to the stage where Link was singing something. Joey wasn't sure what it was, and he didn't really care. All he knew was that they were playing the same old game played at every council party, the game where Link would sing a few songs and then ask if anybody else wanted to sing. Nobody ever did, and Link would continue. Joey had wanted to a few times, but he had been too shy to say anything. However, he would be there tonight, ready and raring to go.

Once Link had finished his song, he leaned into the mike and announced, "Okay, who else wants to come up here and show everybody what they've got?" There was a nastiness in Link's voice, as if he felt that he was the only one on the council with any singing talent.

Joey's hand shot up. "I'd like to!" he yelled. Joey could hear laughs and wisecracks behind him as he got up on the stage and took the mike from Link. He didn't care, it wasn't them he was singing for.

"I'd like to dedicate this song to Tammy Smith, the most beautiful and wonderful girl on the council," Joey said into the mike as he watched Tammy lift her head in surprise.

Joey turned toward the country club orchestra and whispered the song he wanted to sing. The orchestra began playing, and Joey launched into the most beautiful version of Frank Sinatra's "Moonlight Serenade" that he could. He could see nobody as he sang but Tammy. She was all his eyes were fixated on, all his eyes really cared to look upon. He stared into her eyes as he sang, pouring as much sincerity into it as he could.

When he finished, he just turned and walked off the stage. The ballroom was dead silent for a few seconds, then the air became filled with whispers and chit-chat:

"Did you know he could sing like that?"

"Wow!"

"He sounded just like Frank Sinatra!"

Joey didn't listen to any of it. He didn't care what they thought. Tammy was all that was on his mind right now. He wove through the crowd and finally got to Tammy. She smiled at Joey, tears glistening in her eyes.

"That was beautiful," she whispered.

"I meant every word of it," Joey replied. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Tammy managed to get out.

It was only then, in the rush of euphoria that overcame Joey, that he became aware of the rest of the council shouting for an encore.

Joey smiled at Tammy. "Shall we?" he asked.

Tammy smiled and nodded as she put her hand in his. They made their way up to the stage, the orchestra started playing, and Joey and Tammy started singing, their voices in perfect unison.

"Strangers in the night, exchanging glances, wandering in the night, what were the chances we'd be sharing love before the night was through…" they sang.


	8. American Pie

**Hi, everybody! I don't know how often I'm gonna be around anymore, but I'm here now!**

**I don't own the song below (which I think that everybody has heard), nor do I own Hairspray nor any of its characters!**

_American Pie- Don McLean_

_A long, long time ago...  
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile.  
And I knew if I had my chance,  
That I could make those people dance  
And maybe they'd be happy for awhile.  
But February made me shiver with every paper I'd deliver,  
Bad news on the doorstep; I couldn't take one more step.  
I can't remember if I cried when I read about his widowed bride,  
But something touched me deep inside, the day the music died._

So, bye bye Miss American Pie,  
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.  
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye,  
Singing, "This will be the day that I die.  
This will be the day that I die."

Did you write the book of love,  
And do you have faith in god above,  
If the bible tells you so?  
Now do you believe in rock and roll?  
Can music save your mortal soul?  
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you're in love with him,  
'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym,  
You both kicked off your shoes,  
And I dig those rhythmic blues,  
I was a lonely teenaged bronking buck,  
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,  
But I knew I was out of luck, the day the music died.

I started singing, bye bye Miss American Pie,  
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.  
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye,  
Singing, "This will be the day that I die.  
This will be the day that I die."

Now, for ten years, we've been on our own,  
And moss grows fat on our rolling stone,  
But that's not how it used to be,  
When the jester sang for the king and queen,  
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean,  
And a voice that came from you and me,

Oh and while the king was looking down,  
The jester stole his thorny crown,  
The courtroom was adjourned;  
No verdict was returned.  
And while Lennon read a book on Marx,  
The quartet practiced in the park,  
And we sang dirges in the dark, the day the music died.

They were singing, bye bye Miss American Pie,  
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.  
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye,  
Singing, "This will be the day that I die.  
This will be the day that I die."

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.  
The Byrds flew off for the fallout shelter,  
Eight miles high and falling fast.  
It landed foul on the grass.  
The players tried for a forward pass,  
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.

Now the halftime air was sweet perfume,  
While sergeants played a marching tune,  
We all got up to dance,  
Oh, but we never got the chance  
Cause the players tried to take the field;  
The marching band refused to yield.  
Do you recall what was revealed, the day the music died?

We started singing, bye bye Miss American Pie,  
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.  
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye,  
Singing, "This will be the day that I die.  
This will be the day that I die."

Oh, and there we were all in one place,  
A generation lost in space,  
With no time left to start again.  
So, come on; jack be nimble, jack be quick,  
Jack flash sat on a candlestick,  
'Cause fire is the devil's only friend.

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage  
My hands were clenched in fists of rage.  
No angel born in hell  
Could break that satan's spell.  
And as the flames climbed high into the night  
To light the sacrificial rite,  
I saw satan laughing with delight  
The day the music died.

He was singing, bye bye Miss American Pie,  
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.  
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye,  
Singing, "This will be the day that I die.  
This will be the day that I die."

I met a girl who sang the blues  
And I asked her for some happy news,  
But she just smiled and turned away.  
I went down to the sacred store  
Where I'd heard the music years before,  
But the man there said the music wouldn't play.

And in the streets, the children screamed,  
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.  
But not a word was spoken;  
The church bells all were broken.  
And the three men I admire most:  
The father, son, and the holy ghost,  
They caught the last train for the coast,  
The day the music died.

And they were singing...  
Bye bye Miss American Pie,  
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.  
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye,  
Singing, "This will be the day that I die.  
This will be the day that I die."

They were singing...  
Bye bye Miss American Pie,  
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.  
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye,  
Singing, "This will be the day that I die."

Becky sat on the porch of her house, staring off into the setting sun.

It had been a turbulent year. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin… they had been two people that Becky had always looked up to, idolized, people who she had always pointed out when people told her that her drugs, her experiments with LSD and grass and everything else that she had tried, that none of it would do her any good. Becky had always shrugged them off, saying that she knew of no clean people who were really popular musicians; heck, even the Beatles and Beach Boys were into it now.

However, two were gone now, because of the things that Becky had been working so hard to endorse. It was an odd feeling, like the safety net was gone now, that she had been being held over a bottomless pit by a few cables and now they were cut loose.

That wasn't all that had happened. In August of this past year, in Los Angeles on Cielo Drive, four people had been killed, not by cops, not by some crazed veteran, but by the "family" of some crazed hippie named Charlie Manson, a member of the culture that Becky had so wanted to join, the group that had Becky had wanted to join so badly that she was almost ready to throw her bags in the trunk of her car and head to Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco, where she would party with the Merry Pranksters, where she would eat barbecued meat that the Diggers stole off the back of a Safeway truck, become one of Timothy Leary's followers, but Becky knew that she could no longer do so. Her older brother, who had introduced Becky to this lifestyle, had been beaten to death by a couple of cops who didn't cotton to "long-haired, greasy punks", and so Becky knew that she wouldn't fit in with the establishment either.

Becky took one long, last drag and stared at the smoldering joint that she held in her hand. She dropped it on the wooden porch and rubbed it cold with her heel.

Becky knew that it didn't really matter what everybody else said and what everybody else said now. It was up to her to be her own person, and she knew that she couldn't be her own person without doing something first. She got up and threw her stuff as far as she could, then she went inside and never looked back.


	9. Ode to Billie Joe

**Hey! I don't have much time to finish this fic, but I will!**

**I don't own this song, nor do I own Hairspray, blah, blah, blah.**

_Ode to Billie Joe- Bobbie Gentry_

_It was the third of June,__  
__Another sleepy, dusty Delta day.__  
__I was out choppin' cotton__  
__And my brother was balin' hay.__  
__And at dinner time we stopped,__  
__And we walked back to the house to eat.__  
__And mama hollered at the back door__  
__"Y'all remember to wipe your feet."__  
__And then she said she got some news this mornin' from Choctaw Ridge__  
__Today Billy Joe MacAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge._

_Papa said to mama as he passed around the blackeyed peas,__  
__"Well, Billy Joe never had a lick of sense,__  
__Pass the biscuits, please."__  
__"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow."__  
__Mama said it was shame about Billy Joe, anyhow.__  
__Seems like nothin' ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge,__  
__And now Billy Joe MacAllister's jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge_

_And brother said he recollected when he and Tom and Billy Joe__  
__Put a frog down my back at the Carroll County picture show.__  
__And wasn't I talkin' to him after church last Sunday night?__  
__"I'll have another piece of apple pie, you know it don't seem right.__  
__I saw him at the sawmill yesterday on Choctaw Ridge,__  
__And now you tell me Billy Joe's jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge."_

_Mama said to me "Child, what's happened to your appetite?__  
__I've been cookin' all morning and you haven't touched a single bite.__  
__That nice young preacher, Brother Taylor, dropped by today,__  
__Said he'd be pleased to have dinner on Sunday. Oh, by the way,__  
__He said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge__  
__And she and Billy Joe was throwing somethin' off the Tallahatchie Bridge."_

_A year has come 'n' gone since we heard the news 'bout Billy Joe.__  
__Brother married Becky Thompson, they bought a store in Tupelo.__  
__There was a virus going 'round, papa caught it and he died last spring,__  
__And now mama doesn't seem to wanna do much of anything.__  
__And me, I spend a lot of time pickin' flowers up on Choctaw Ridge,__  
__And drop them into the muddy water off the Tallahatchie Bridge._

Amber's high heels clicked on the metal and asphalt as she walked onto the bridge. She looked up and stared at the web of metal girders above her, standing as dark shadows against the misty, metal-colored sky.

Amber walked over to the barrier that stretched down the right side of the bridge and stared down into the brown, murky water of the river. The water churned and bubbled as it flowed over the rocks and sand and other things that lay at the bottom of the river, a river that had a bottom which now included, as of September, the body of Shelley Ambrose.

It was in the Indian summer of last year that Shelley and Amber had discovered how they truly felt about each other. It had been a revelation, and one that one had never really expected to happen. Of course, there were several reasons for that, none of which Amber really liked to think about. However, she knew that none of that really mattered now.

Shelley and Amber had decided that they wanted to run away together and raise a child of their very own. They, not wanting to arouse the suspicion that would be aroused by adoption or any of the medical methods that would allow them to have a child, decided to kidnap a child from the steel magnate Nathan Thomson, whose wife had just had quintuplets. They had figured that the Thomsons would never miss one child; in fact, it may have been a welcome thing to a mother who had to put up with five babies.

The kidnapping had gone remarkably well; however, the investigation after the fact didn't go so smoothly, and Shelley and Amber quickly became the only suspects. As the noose tightened around Shelley and Amber's necks, Shelley decided that they had to get rid of all the evidence, the biggest piece of evidence being the baby. One afternoon, Shelley stole a hammer from her father's toolbox and she and Amber haphazardly aborted the baby. They disposed of the body by throwing it off the bridge. Shortly after, Shelley went the same way.

The news of Shelley's death didn't really sadden anybody except Amber, a sadness intensified, surprisingly to Amber, by the death of her mother a few months later. These days, Amber now just liked to pick flowers and throw them into the river off the bridge.


	10. The Warmth of the Sun

**Wow! I'm completing one of my fics? Is this a sign of the apocalypse?**

**I don't own this song (a perfect capper for this fic), nor do I own any of the characters.**

* * *

_The Warmth of the Sun- The Beach Boys_

_What good is the dawn that grows into day_

_The sunset at night or living this way_

_For I have the warmth of the sun within me at night_

_The love of my life, she left me one day_

_I cried when she said, "I don't feel the same way"_

_Still, I have the warmth of the sun within me tonight_

_I'll dream of her arms and though they're not real_

_Just like they're not there is the way that I feel_

_My love, like the warmth of the sun, will never die_

Amber lay in her bed in Hawthorne, California. She was completely silent and still, almost to the point of being afraid to move. There were several reasons for this, the least of which being that she might arouse her aunt and uncle. Most of all, though, Amber didn't want to break the spell.

Amber rolled over and stared through the open shades. The streetlamp across the street cast its light through the branches and leaves of the large oak tree that sat in the front yard, casting strange contorted shadows across the room. The ceiling fan spun steadily and calmly above Amber, covered in her floral bedspread.

Velma had no longer been able to put up with Amber, especially after the blow-up over the relationship that Amber had had with Corny. This would not have been all that bad, if not for the fact that Amber had been involved in the same sorts of things with Shelley. That had been the straw that had broken the camel's back, and Velma had decided to get Amber as far away from her old life as possible.

However, there was one thing that could not be taken from Amber, and she was glad for it. She could still dream. She could drift off to that wonderful fantasy world, where she could still enjoy her time with Corny and Shelley, still feel Corny's hot lips as they tasted her lipstick, still feel Shelley's manicured fingernails as they ran down her back, where Amber could still feel happy.

This was all Amber needed, and this was all she asked for.

* * *

**Whew! It's done! Thanks for sticking around for the long haul!  
Until next time, keep smiling!**


End file.
